


True North

by gemessential



Category: Bishoujo Senshi Sailor Moon | Pretty Guardian Sailor Moon
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-04
Updated: 2015-07-04
Packaged: 2018-04-07 14:26:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,830
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4266624
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gemessential/pseuds/gemessential
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Haruka had just rolled out of bed, grumpy and feeling like a piece of paper that someone had crushed and thrown into the wastebasket, and here was this beautiful girl lecturing her on morality, claiming that the only just and right thing to do was abandon your partner in the heat of battle to die.</p>
            </blockquote>





	True North

Another day, another battle. Michiru had reminded her yet again this morning not to get too attached, to know that when your partner is down, you will always run because the mission is the most important thing and the ends justify the means.

They always meet at times that are slightly after or solidly before meals, Haruka notes. She has to remind herself that Michiru doesn’t want to get close to her, is very conscious of holding herself apart. There is no intimacy, and they are seldom alone anywhere unless on a mission.

That morning they had met, Michiru’s breath was minty fresh and she smelled like her expensive coconut shampoo. Haruka had just rolled out of bed, grumpy and feeling like a piece of paper that someone had crushed and thrown into the wastebasket, and here was this beautiful girl lecturing her on morality, claiming that the only just and right thing to do was abandon your partner in the heat of battle to die.

Well, frankly, fuck that.

Haruka wouldn’t have left an animal behind to die, much less Michiru. Still, they could play this game as long as they wanted. Haruka was willing to put up with quite a lot to gain Michiru’s company. Although Michiru had waxed poetic when they first met, any declarations of love or admiration seemed long in the past. Haruka still caught her looking at her, though - only when she thought Haruka wasn’t looking. And Haruka admitted to herself, because she was  _honest_ like that, unlike  _some_  people she knew - it certainly wasn’t all about  _the mission_ , and it wasn’t about saving the world. There were many times Haruka couldn’t give two shits about the fate of the world, but she cared very much what Michiru had had for breakfast and if they could get lunch together and if maybe, sometime next week, they could see a movie. Then maybe she would be living in a world worth saving.

So when they met up again after dinner time in the park, Haruka was understandably feeling a bit stressed. She didn’t want to hear about the mission and could feel herself trembling, like a wire that was about to snap. She wondered if Michiru could feel her thrumming energy - she was a violinist, after all, and should know about taut strings.

But Michiru did not appear to notice. She was, again, talking about the mission, and Haruka was feeling horrible. She kicked a stray pebble absently, looking down and not meeting Michiru’s eyes.

“Haruka? Are you even listening?” Michiru asked reproachfully.

“No,” said Haruka. 

“Why not?” Michiru demanded.

“I don’t care about the missions. I never have.”

Michiru’s mouth was a grim, pursed line, and she said nothing but raised an aristocratic eyebrow. Haruka had never seen her look so unattractive, but she kind of didn’t mind. She was feeling a strong urge to get a rise out of Michiru in whatever way she could, to needle her until she felt as broken as Haruka did.

“You don’t care about the mission either, and you know it,” Haruka said, more viciously than she had intended.

“You don’t get to talk to me like that, Haruka,” Michiru said, voice rising.

“You talk to me however you want, and I don’t get any say in it.”

“What are you talking about? We’ve both agreed that if the other falls, we have to go on. It’s the only way to keep going - ”

“Michiru, can you please stop fucking lying to me for one second?!”

They had walked into a small courtyard in a park, and Haruka realized she had drawn a crowd of frightened onlookers with her last outburst. Michiru’s head was in her hands, and her shoulders were shaking. Haruka was suddenly ashamed of herself. “Michiru…I - ”

A girl from the crowd had drawn forward and shielded Michiru from view, her arm around her as she wept. The girl glared at Haruka and said, “You don’t have to be around him. Come on, I’ll take you wherever you need to go.”

Michiru protested that it wasn’t like that, but she was dragged along by the would-be good samaritan. Haruka, at a loss and knowing that she was more than in the wrong, clenched and unclenched her hands into fists, ran her fingers through her hair until it was violently disheveled, and stoically cried half the way home.

–

The next day, Michiru pulled her into a closet at Mugen. Haruka’s yelp was stifled by a warm hand over her mouth, which was quickly pulled away as Michiru shut the door. In the cramped space, she could smell Michiru, flowers and some foreign scent that was immutably warm, live girl.

Not looking at her, Michiru said, “I’m sorry, I lost my temper.”

“No - I’m so sorry. I should never have - it was true, though. I’m upset. Things don’t need to be like this,” Haruka said.

“Things can be just as they were. They have to be.”

“Michiru!” Haruka said angrily, at a loss for words. The girl was infuriating. Michiru’s eyes met hers again, flashing and dark.

“There’s no point talking to you when you’re like this,” Michiru said grimly, reaching for the doorknob.

“That’s not fair! Don’t just shut me down, you can’t -”

But Michiru was still jiggling the doorknob, this time looking confused. “Haruka, I think we’re locked in.”

“What? Let me try.”

There was an awkward shuffling as Haruka tried to get past her without invading her personal space, which she had learned Michiru was very careful of preserving. She knew Michiru was rolling her eyes just from her tone: “Why do you think you have some special door-opening power? If it won’t open for me, it won’t open for you,” she huffed.

Michiru, unfortunately, was right. Although the door had opened easily from the outside and there was a doorknob on the inside, there was no internal lock to pick and the door was not budging no matter what they were trying. “Why did you pick this particular closet?” Haruka asked, somewhat rhetorically.

“I was overwrought! By your  _rudeness_.” Michiru’s arms were folded, her nose slightly up in the air. There were moments when her class was almost painfully readable. Haruka sighed, running a hand through her hair.

“If we yell to be let out, we could get expelled,” Haruka said. Two girls in a closet, one of them very masculine-presenting, was not a good position to be in at a conservative school like Mugen, particularly when one of them had a ladykiller reputation like Haruka.

“I’ll text one of my friends. Maybe they can let us out,” Michiru said, pulling out an expensive looking smartphone.

She sent the text, and appeared to scroll through her phone. “You can’t have service in here,” Haruka eventually said skeptically.

“I don’t,” replied Michiru.

It seemed like there was nothing to do but wait, and stare at Michiru. Haruka wasn’t concerned; this was her favorite pastime. But the longer she looked at Michiru, the more uncomfortable Michiru seemed to get.

“You’re making this very hard for me,” Michiru said, finally.

“How so?”

“You know,” she said with finality.

“I really don’t! I like you. I know you like me. Why can’t we be together? To me, that’s the most moral choice. Not…lying about it, being apart for no reason.”

“We can’t be together! We have  _things_  to focus on,” said Michiru, sounding tormented.

“Can’t we do both? Would it be so bad if we were together? Maybe we would be stronger. How do you know we’re doing the right thing, anyway?”

“Of course we’re doing the right thing. We’re saving the world!”

“You’re being very rigid,” Haruka said critically.

“At least I know where I stand.”

“At least I know things aren’t so simple!” Haruka snapped back.

There was silence for a while, with both of them unable to look at each other.

“We’re stuck in here for a while. We might as well try to figure this all out,” Haruka said.

“I don’t want to  _emotionally process_  with you right now.”

“Well then, what do you want to do with me?” Haruka asked, which made Michiru’s face twist up in irritation.

“God, you are so annoying,” said Michiru, suddenly pressed close to her. As it was an electrical closet, Haruka was against the circuit breaker, its handle poking into her back.

“W-what? I mean, um -” but her words were cut off by Michiru’s mouth, warm and soft against hers. She gasped into the kiss, wrapping her arms around Michiru’s back, the soft fabric of her school uniform smooth against her hands.

She felt like she was drowning. Michiru was all around her, her hair soft and still smelling like coconut and jasmine, and her mouth was intoxicating. Michiru grabbed one of her hands and placed it firmly on her chest, and Haruka moaned.

“Come on,” Michiru whispered in her ear, shoving her leg between Haruka’s knees and biting her neck. “Isn’t this what you wanted?” Michiru asked darkly.

“What - what are we doing?” Haruka asked. 

Michiru drew back and looked like she was restraining herself from rolling her eyes. “What do you think we’re doing, Haruka?” 

Haruka frowned and kissed her again, with more anger this time. Michiru returned the kiss, pressing even closer to her. Her body was soft but muscular, and Haruka couldn’t resist feeling the curve of her stomach, gripping the small of her back. 

When they weren’t talking, things were surprisingly okay, and she resolved to make Michiru wordless for the rest of their time locked in the electrical closet. She kissed her again, savagely, but bit her lip with care.

Suddenly, the door creaked open. Over Michiru’s head, Haruka saw a blushing member of the Mugen janitorial staff.

“I, uh, I’ll just leave the door cracked,” he said, and fled. Michiru sighed, smoothing her hair and straightening her uniform.

“You’re not going to get weird after this, right?” asked Haruka. “You can’t keep running from me forever.”

“I was running from you for your own good,” Michiru said as she picked up her schoolbag. She was already almost immaculate again, but her pupils were dilated and her lipstick completely gone.

“Don’t I get a say in what’s good for me?” Haruka asked earnestly.

Michiru paused. “Is it bad to say I hadn’t really thought of that?”

Haruka had the feeling they were getting somewhere, was rooting around for the words that would make Michiru magically understand that she could be relied on and didn’t need to be lied to, but couldn’t come up with anything. She settled on, “What are we going to do about the janitor?”

“I’ll pay him off,” said Michiru, like it was that easy. For her, maybe it was. Michiru went out first after checking the hallway in an expert fashion, but she squeezed Haruka’s hand and kissed her cheek before leaving. Haruka felt, for a brief and shining moment, blessed and chosen and good.

**Author's Note:**

> For femmeslash february on tumblr! (fills several of the prompts, including trapped, argument turns to passion, and first kiss). I’m not particularly pleased with how this turned out compared to my other pieces but w/e.


End file.
